Outed
by Rainbow Haunting
Summary: When Mr. Simmons's students find out his secret, it causes a chain of effects that no one had anticipated. Will Arnold and his friends be able to stop the intolerance before it puts an end to their teacher's career?
1. Chapter 1

Outed

By Rainbow Haunting

Chapter 1

It was one sweltering Saturday in the end of May and all of the neighborhood kids were gathered in the street to play their weekend game of baseball. Helga was first at bat and gave a few test swings as she waited for Gerald to pitch the ball. Her blond hair had wilted from the heat like a thirsty sunflower, the sweat stinging her eyes as she went up to the home plate. As soon as she stepped on, Harold, who was stationed as the catcher behind her, taunted her as he usually did.

"Oooh look it's Helgaaa! You gonna hit the ball with that dumb pink bow of yours?"

Helga spat on the ground and gave him a look of utter disdain. If looks could kill, Harold would already be stone cold. "Just watch and see bucko."

She turned just as Gerald pitched the ball and with a loud wooden crack, the baseball sailed above their heads and crashed into a nearby alleyway. With a victorious smirk, Helga ran to first plate then to second as the opposing team scrambled to find the baseball. She had made it to third base and had almost made a homerun when out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark shape close in to her right. Helga tried to push herself faster to avoid it but instead she collided into it headfirst, their skulls clunking together like a pair of coconuts. She could hear a distant "And you're out!" as she laid in the dust beside the poor sap that crashed into her. With her head throbbing, Helga pushed herself up and her eyes met Arnold's.

"Need some help?" he asked with an outstretched hand. Helga felt like swooning at her crush's offer but she quickly collected herself and shoved his hand away. She adjusted the bow on her head, got up on her feet, and scowled.

"No thanks Arnoldo. I don't need your help. But I'm gonna pound whoever hit me."

She looked around her and her scowl deepened as she saw Stinky help up a dusty Sid from the ground. Helga marched up to the shorter boy and yanked him up from his collar, her face dangerously close to his.

Sid gulped and stuttered, "Sorry Helga! I didn't mean to bump into you! Honest!"

Helga clenched her teeth and shook Sid like a ragdoll. "Sorry?! You costed me my home run you little twerp! You better have a good reason for hitting me or else your gonna have to answer here to "Ol' Betsy" and "The Five Avengers"!"

She raised her fist and Sid shielded his face with a shriek. "Stop! Please, I'll tell you everything! Stinky and I were at Dino Land and we saw Mr. Simmons!"

Helga still had her fist in the air. "So? What's so weird about that?"

Sid gulped in some air and continued. "There was another guy with him!"

She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And?"

"And they were….they were…"

Helga let out a frustrated snort and dropped Sid on the ground. "If you won't spit it out, then just forget it. I'll just have to beat you up later."

She turned around and was about to walk away when finally Sid blurted it out. "They were kissing! Mr. Simmons was kissing another guy!"

While the crowd of kids gasped and began to chatter among themselves at the revelation, Helga kept on walking as if nothing happened. "Who cares? He could be french kissing a bullfrog and I still wouldn't give a crap." She marched her way back to the home plate and crossed her arms, waiting for everyone else to start up the game again.

But to her dismay, the crowd of kids stayed put as they began to ask questions.

"Was it really a guy?" asked Harold to Sid.

Gerald shook his head. "Sid, you sure they were really kissing? Maybe that other guy was foreign or something. You know, kissing as a form of greeting sorta thing. I heard that's popular in Europe."

"No man, they were really kissing! Like a couple! And he was a guy! I saw it with my own eyes!"

Stinky nodded. "He's right. I saw the same darn thing too. Don't know what to make of it to be perfectly honest."

Rhonda raised her slender eyebrow. "You know what this means right?"

The other kids glanced around to one another and some shrugged or shook their heads.

"It means…" Rhonda's voice dropped to a low whisper. The rest of the gang leaned forward to hear her next words. "He's…gay."

There was an explosion of gasps and mummers. Eugene, who was a little late to the party due to his crutches, hobbled closer and asked, "Hey guys, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what does gay mean?"

"It means that he likes dudes, dude." Gerald's high top haircut shook as he shrugged his shoulders. "Don't think that matters though. He's our teacher and it's not like we care much about what our teachers do on their off days."

Arnold stepped up to face the crowd. "Gerald's right. We don't know if Mr. Simmons is gay but even if he is, it shouldn't matter. There's nothing wrong with our teacher dating guys."

Stinky was the first to reply. "I don't know Arnold. My uncle told me that homosexuality is unnatural."

Sid was next. "Yeah and I heard they got all kinds of diseases. What if Mr. Simmons is contagious and we all catch it?"

Harold nodded. "Yeah, what if we catch gay cooties because he'll spread it to us? I don't wanna date boys! He can't make me!"

Arnold folded his arms. The look on his face was clear: he had enough. "Guys, Mr. Simmons is not going spread gay germs. I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. He was probably born that way."

"But what if you're wrong Arnold?!" Sid grabbed ahold of Arnold's shirt. "What if you're wrong and we all catch Mr. Simmons's gayness and we all become gay and girly and…gay!"

In the middle of all the commotion Rhonda was preening herself in front of her handheld mirror. "Actually Sid, maybe being gay would suit you. Then you can have some more fashion sense and get rid of those horrible beetle boots of yours."

The shorter boy frowned and gave a self-conscious glance down at his dusty white shoes. "What's wrong with my boots?"

Before Rhonda could reply, Harold raised his huge hand to interject. "Oh! I know what we can do! We can just ask Mr. Simmons if he's gay and then we'll know for sure!"

Arnold tried again to be the voice of reason. "Harold, I don't think that's a good idea. He might want to keep something like that private."

His words were quickly drowned out by the chorus of agreement to Harold's plan. Frustrated, Arnold picked up his bat and left without a word.

Gerald noticed his friend's soured mood with furrowed brows. "Hey man, don't listen to them. They'll probably forget the whole thing by tomorrow. You still wanna play baseball?"

Arnold shook his head. "No thanks Gerald. I think I'd rather go home. I'll catch up with you later."

He turned around and walked towards the boarding house, passing Helga on the way out. Still angry that her classmates made her wait, she took out her bottle- up frustration on the first person that crossed her path.

"Hey football head!"

Arnold continued to walk on ahead, still looking dejected. "Hey Helga."

Noticing the sad tone in boy's voice, Helga's tough exterior softened. She caught up to Arnold and walked beside him. "Hey uh, Arnold. If it makes any difference, I agree with you on the whole Mr. Simmons thing."

Surprised, Arnold lifted his head and took a good look at Helga. "Really? You do?"

"I know right? Finally we agree on something but yeah, I do. I don't think there's anything wrong with our teacher being gay. You can't just pick and choose the people you love. Love is blind and mysterious. Love is what gives us hope that we can find that one special person, no matter who they are."

Arnold cracked a smile and Helga felt like she could die happy then and there. "I didn't know you could be so poetic."

Her euphoria came crashing down as she scrambled to cover her tracks. Any trace of warmth in Helga's eyes had vanished and was quickly replaced with a tough as nails squint. "Uh, **_no_**. I was just being practical. I hate that kind of mushy stuff. Anyways, I gotta get going. See ya later football head."

After flicking her finger at Arnold's head, she walked as fast as she could to give some distance. Helga found herself in an alleyway, her heart pounding like it always did whenever her crush got too close to discovering who she really was. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, Helga took out a small heart-shaped locket and sighed.

"Oh golden haired boy of my dreams! How noble! How kind! You truly are a paragon among us all, fighting for justice when no one else will! How I adore you! How I love you! Oh Arnold! Arn- wait."

She could hear a distant nasally wheeze from the trashcan behind her. She stomped on over and shoved the lid open, revealing Brainy curled up among the rubbish.

Letting out another wheeze, Brainy raised his hand in hello. "Hi."

Growling, Helga gave Brainy a punch to the face, breaking his glasses for the millionth time and left with her secret tucked under her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

At first everything seemed normal as Mr. Simmons's fourth graders filed into class. It was a largely uneventful day, with math in the morning, geography in the afternoon, and poetry after lunch. Their teacher was in the middle of writing a sonnet on the chalkboard when Harold, goaded by Stinky and Sid, raised his hand. Helga and Arnold glanced at one another, knowing full well what their classmate was going to ask. Helga leaned towards Harold and hissed. "You better not ask what I think you're gonna ask, pink boy."

Arnold had a more gentle approach. "Harold, please don't do this. Think about how Mr. Simmons is going to feel."

But it was too late. Mr. Simmons saw Harold's hand. Happy to answer his student's question, Mr. Simmons gave a warm smile and said, "Yes Harold? Do you have a question about Shakespeare?"

Still keeping his hand raised, Harold shook his head. "No, I got a question about something else." He hesitated for a few seconds before moving on. "Is it true that you're gay?"

The classroom was totally silent as everyone waited for Mr. Simmons's reaction. He blinked once, twice as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The chalk fell from his fingers and he bent down to pick it up. "Oops."

He gave a weak laugh. "Now Harold, I don't think that is an appropriate question to ask. Why don't we turn our attention to Shakespeare's-"

Harold shot up from his desk and pounded the wooden frame with his fists. "Stinky and Sid saw you kissing another guy. Isn't that right you guys?"

Both Stinky and Sid slumped in their chairs, keeping their heads buried underneath their arms, too embarrassed to let out more than a "Yes" to Harold.

With a groan, Helga slid back in her seat and kept her eyes focused on the ceiling. Whatever happened next was going to be too painful to watch.

Mr. Simmons swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing as he tried to maintain his composure. "H-Harold, please, this is not a conversation we should be having. What I do after school hours should not be up for discussion-"

Curly raised a hand and before his teacher gave permission to speak, he began talking. "So are you in love with that guy you kissed? Is kissing a man better than kissing a lady?"

Sid raised his head from the desk. "You aren't going to give us gay cooties right Mr. Simmons?"

Phoebe's quiet voice struggled to rise above her classmates' questions. "Actually Sid, it's not a pathogen. There have been scientific studies that show it starts at early development…"

Rhonda took a pause in filing her nails. "Mr. Simmons just to let you know, I'm okay with you being gay, but please don't kiss your boyfriend in front of us okay? Like seeing my parents kissing isn't bad enough. Ew."

"Class, please. This is distracting us from our class time. Class, please listen to me, please!"

Arnold could see the panic that was clear on Mr. Simmons's face and again, he tried to stop his classmates' invasive questions, raising his voice as he did so. "Guys, can you stop? Guys come on! This isn't fair to Mr. Simmons!"

But his classmates continued to bombard their teacher with questions and argue among themselves. Only Helga, Gerald, and Arnold were silent as everything derailed around them.

And they were among the few in the class to notice their teacher wipe the tears that fell from his face and heard him say, very quietly, "Sorry class, I'm not feeling too good. Class is dismissed for today."

Just as quietly as he spoke, Mr. Simmons walked out of the classroom. Behind the din of voices, there was a soft sound of hitched breathing, as if someone was holding back a sob. Only a few pair of ears picked up on it as it grew more and more distant, eventually disappearing all together.

The kids continued to talk among themselves until they heard a very loud crash from the front of the room. They all turned around and saw Arnold standing over his own desk and facing the class with the kind of anger that they rarely saw in the normally zen-like boy.

"You guys should be ashamed in yourselves. Are you happy that you made Mr. Simmons cry? Are you happy that you couldn't just leave him alone?"

Everyone had shrunk under Arnold's fierce gaze. Harold looked around to Sid and Stinky, who were still cowering from behind their desks.

"I didn't know he was going to cry," said Harold. His answer triggered a chorus of voices throughout the room.

"Me neither!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"I'm sorry!"

"We're sorry!"

Arnold's hardened look didn't ease up. "Sorry isn't going to cut it. If you want to make it up to Mr. Simmons, you have to do more than that."

"But what should we do?" his classmates asked.

But not even Arnold had the answer to that.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A few days had past since a teary eyed Mr. Simmons left the classroom. A substitute teacher had arrived the next day, explaining that Mr. Simmons was on sick leave and would come back soon but everyone knew the real reason why he left. Guilt sat like a dark halo on the heads of almost every child, the weight of it making them slump in their seats. It was never said aloud, for fear that the spoken words could jinx it and banish him forever. But every one of them kept wondering: would he ever come back?

* * *

It wasn't long until news of Mr. Simmons had spilled out from the walls of P.S.118 and into the streets and homes of Hillwood. The kids would come home and hear their parents talk about Mr. Simmons, either with them or behind closed doors. Some families, like Harold's and Phoebe's parents, were supportive of Mr. Simmons and wanted him to continue teaching. Others, like Stinky's and Rhonda's were adamantly against Mr. Simmons "lifestyle choices" and wanted him fired. The gossip created friction against mother and father, sibling against sibling, and child against parent as opinions on the matter were shared, only to for them to be surprised that not everyone in their family thought the same thing.

When the subject was brought up in Gerald's house, Gerald's parents gathered their family for a talk. Everything was going smoothly until Gerald's older brother, Jamie O, cracked a gay joke at the table, causing a heated argument between both boys. Gerald and Jamie O nearly got into a fistfight before their parents stopped them, the situation only cooling off once both boys were sent to their rooms.

Meanwhile in Sid's apartment, the discussion was kept out of sight but it was easy to overhear what was said in the tiny space. Sid sat in the hallway outside of his parents bedroom and kept an ear to the door as they talked about Mr. Simmons. The conversation quickly left his teacher however and became about Sid. His mother accused his father of being too lenient in Sid's choice of heeled boots, of not letting Sid toughen up and be more like what a boy should be.

Sid's eyes shifted to his room and to the nightstand where a yearbook photo of Stinky was tucked neatly underneath piles of mismatched socks. Maybe it was time to get rid of it, just in case.

* * *

In Helga's house, the evening started off as usual. Miriam had managed to burn the steak to a crisp and created an oasis of milk in the soggy mashed potatoes. When Helga arrived at the dinner table, her mother was already nodding off, muttering to herself while Big Bob clenched his jaw as he looked down at the mess that was their dinner for the night.

Seeing that her father was already in a bad mood, Helga silently shoveled food into her mouth.

"So Olga, I heard about your teacher, Mr. Simon."

Helga scowled from behind her folk and swallowed. "It's **Helga** , _Bob._ And my teacher's name is Simmons."

"Yeah, whatever. Simmons, Simon, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's gay and teaching you and the rest of your little friends about his gay agenda."

Helga's next words were drenched in sarcasm. "Oh really? And what's this gay agenda exactly? Geography? History?"

Sensing his daughter's attitude, Bob pointed a fork at her with a tight lipped frown. "Don't get uppity with me young lady! You know what I mean. He'll teach kids that it's okay to be gay!"

Helga crossed her arms, raising a uni brow in defiance. "In case you haven't noticed _Dad_ , it's a free country. People can be gay if they want to. Besides, Mr. Simmons never talked about his personal life. He teaches us the stuff we need to pass the fourth grade and that's it."

"See? I knew it!" Bob threw his hands in the air, causing Miriam to wake up with a startled snort. "You already got it into your head that it's okay to be gay! And it's not!"

At this point, Helga would normally have had enough of her father, but she wanted to know why her father held on to his crazy conspiracy.

"And what's so wrong with being gay? Give me one good reason."

"Well first off, it's unnatural. A man should be with a woman and a woman should be with a man. That's just how it is. Isn't that right Miriam?"

Miriam hesitated for a few seconds before Big Bob gave her a hard nudge with his elbow. "Er, yeah, Helga, just listen to your father. He just wants what's best for you."

"And what's best for you little lady, is that you're not being taught by a fruit. That nancy boy has got to go."

There was a clatter of silverware as Helga shoved herself away and got up from the table. "Your reason is the stupidest thing that I've ever heard in my life. Don't bother trying to give me any more of your crap because there's nothing wrong with being gay. Actually being gay is _better_ than just okay, it's great, wonderful even! And guess what? Mr. Simmons is the greatest teacher I've ever had, so you can stick that up your pipe and-"

Helga's father shot up from his seat, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white. His face, from his beefy neck up to his ears, had turned tomato red. His breathing became ragged, like a caged bull ready to charge. "Pataki, you better apologize right now or I swear I'll-"

There were very few things in this world that Helga was afraid of and her father wasn't one of them. Narrowing her eyes, she mouthed out one word and one word only: "No".

That was the last straw for Bob. He lunged from across the table, sending dishes crashing on the floor. Before he could grab Helga's shirt, a hand was pressed, gently but firmly, on Bob's back.

"B, please."

Miriam looked to Helga, her eyes clear and sober. Her mouth was halfway between a concerned frown and a pained wince, as if she wanted to apologize to her but was too afraid of the repercussions. "Helga, go to your room. We'll talk later."

For a brief moment, Helga's expression softened when she met her mother's eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, the softness was soon gone, buried under her diamond hard exterior. Without a word, Helga stomped to her room and slammed the door behind her.

Bob exhaled loudly, rubbing his pink temples. "Miriam, we got to get that girl under control. She's driving me nuts!"

His wife rubbed his back in small circles, attempting to soothe the savage beast that was her husband. "B, I know things are tough but maybe you should-"

Bob interrupted her, not wanting to hear any of of what he called, "wussy sensitivity talk". Jerking away from Miriam, Bob walked to the foyer, grabbing his coat from the closet.

Miriam trailed behind, watching him from behind her glasses.

"Miriam, I swear I'm gonna get that teacher fired, even if that's the last thing I do."

"And how are you going to do that?"

Bob shot her an annoyed look. "Miriam, I don't want sass from you either. If it isn't bad enough getting back talk from the girl, I don't want it coming from you too."

He zipped up his jacket, adjusting the collar in the mirror. "Anyways, I got power, influence. I'm the Beeper King for cripes sake! I can get whatever I want. And by the end of next week, that fairy's gonna be halfway to San Francisco."

Before Miriam could get a word in, her husband was already out the door. For a while she stood there, trying to process everything that had happened. But once it became too overwhelming, Miriam retreated back to the kitchen, her hands grasping a bottle of that cold and familiar comfort. Now was a good a time as any to have a drink.


End file.
